Served in a plate of dirt to the vultures In a bed of nettles i scream my conviction feed on me! feed on me! i no more seek for that measly bit of light There is no sky, There is no horizon It's raining mud!
I'm left splayed on dust, in shambles left here wrapped in mold
And now i know what your voice, impressed in the distance, wanted to say And now i know the heads and tails of the end And now i know it all falls into oblivion And now i know the failure of the human concept And now i know that even when all seems to reiterate The circle Ends Here